


the story of last night

by drmsqnc



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Get, i heard the song at like midnight and was like hey why not, i wrote this on a whim shut up, lafayette get away, reader doesnt have time for this babysitting crap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drmsqnc/pseuds/drmsqnc
Summary: Hercules, the bastard, had left you with an intoxicated Lafayette to take care of.





	the story of last night

“ _I may not live to see our glory!”_

You rose an eyebrow at the chorus of voices that hit your ears as you entered the bar, and sighed when you recognized the faces. 

 _Not again,_ You purposefully maneuvered away from them, going by the counter. Its not that you didn’t like the four idiots, you did, but it was just that you had no time nor patience to deal with them at the moment. The whole reason you had skipped the reception in the first place, was because you had found yourself becoming quickly overwhelmed. 

Even among-st girls, Angelica sure knew how to party. 

You chuckled nervously at the memory of the flamboyant Schuyler (and Eliza who surprisingly got quite frisky the moment she got even a little alcohol in her system).

So yeah, it wasn’t a good idea to let them see you. Especially since it looked like they were dead ass  _drunk._ They were bad enough normally, you didn’t even want to try to handle them while they were off their rocker.

“The usual?”

You lifted your head to peer at the bartender, who had a warm smile. You nodded, and the man blinked at your weary state. 

“Rough night?” He asked. You looked not too subtly in the way of the notorious gang, and he gave you an expression of empathy. “Ah, I see.”

“Hamilton’s hitched,” you clarified. The bartender snickered.

“I know. The whole place does,” He said, returning with your drink. You shrugged, laughing along with him and taking a tentative sip before deciding to just chug the whole thing down.

Right when you were contemplating getting another round and joining the party of intoxicated laid-backs, a hand tapped your shoulder. You turned to see the face of none other than Hercules Mulligan himself.

“Y/L/N” He started, scratching the back of his neck with a crooked white smile. He looked to be still tipsy, but way more cognitive than he had been when you spotted the quartet earlier. 

“Please, Mulligan, you can call me Y/N,” You returned the smile, giving him your full attention. 

“Well then, right back at you, Y/N.”

“As you say, Hercules,” You taunted back. He chuckled deeply.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I require your assistance,” He began. You gave him a look of confusion, and he gestured to his arm. 

When you looked properly, you saw that he was practically carrying Lafayette  like he weighed a bag of feathers. While Hercules had regained his wits, the french man clearly had not, and was still properly bamboozled. 

“Monsieur Lafayette cannot hold his liquor?” You questioned in amusement. Hercules shared your sentiment.

“On the contrary, he is actually quite impressive in that regard. But alas, he had way more than any of us.”

You grinned but it wavered when you saw his suggestive gaze. “Wait…what exactly are you asking me to do here?”

“Well…”

“No.”

“Please Y/N?” He couldn’t restrain his laugh. “John ran off somewhere, and I need to track him down so that he doesn’t jump in the lake.”

“Why can’t Hamilton do it?” You stalled. 

“Hamilton went off somewhere with Burr,” Hercules confirmed. You opened your mouth to make another excuse but a look from the tall man had you shutting up.

You groaned, putting your palm to your face. “I’m going to regret this.”

“Thank you Y/N,” Hercules was more than willing to hand over the drunk man to you, and you nearly fell over to hold him up. 

“You’re-” You barely started but he was already out the doors. “…welcome.”

You huffed, focusing now on the immigrant nearly drooling on your shoulder.

“Lets go,” You shook him slightly, enough to get him able to walk with you as you hung his arm around your neck.

“Hmm..?” He asked drowsily, a rumble vibrating through his chest and straight through you. “Where…?”

His voice was hoarse from the recent wake up and you would vehemently deny that it had goosebumps rising up your arms. 

“Home,” You said, absentmindedly watching the stars as the two of you hobbled down the empty street. 

“Home…?” He repeated. “You…would have a…ship at the ready?”

You snorted. Even completely wasted, he didn’t fail to have you in fits of laughter. 

“Not France, Lafayette,” You mused. “Though I think I would like to visit.”

“Anytime…” He opened his eyes blearily, seeming to want to see you. When he saw your face he seemed a bit surprised, but got over it. “Y/N…”

Your name rolling off his lips made you weirdly content. 

“You would escort me, Monsieur?” You were enjoying somewhat flirting with the man, knowing he wouldn’t remember a single word. 

“Anything for you,” He responded. You paused. That sounded a little too sincere. You peeked a glance to see if he had cleared his mind from the alcoholic fog, but his face was still flushed. Guess not.

“Its a date then,” You said. 

“Date…? Yes…a date,” He murmured by your ear, breath washing over you, a distinct smell of sweet whiskey. You were already getting flustered by the proximity, but when his lips pressed to your neck you lost your crap.

“What are you doing?” The words were rushed, your voice a pitch higher. 

“Tu es si belle.”

“What?”

“Vous frappez, madame. Restez avec moi.”

“Um…Lafayette?”

The only thing that followed was a babble of french that you in no way could translate. The sultry flow of the romantic language by your ear was again getting too much for you. You were sure your face would burn off in no time.

“Lafayette!”

That seemed to knock him out of his daze, but he still continued to speak in French, with a few random English words in-between. You suddenly noticed the confused expression set on his face and realized he quite seriously couldn’t remember the language at the moment in his state.

How adorable.

You let him off the hook for the intrusion of your personal space just because of that, and giggled quietly to yourself as you walked up to his door. 

You fished around in his coat for his keys, and gave a small ‘aha’ when you found them in an inner pocket. The door clicked open.

“Here we are,” You said. A strike of sympathy struck within you with another look at Lafayette’s disheveled state. 

It wouldn’t kill you to bring him to his room would it? You took the small journey with a pep in your step.

“Time to go to bed, Lafayette,” You spoke to him as if he was a child, patting his shoulder. He hummed.

“mmhm…”

You made to let him go but stopped breathing when the roles changed as he clamped his arms around your waist and dragged you down to the mattress with him.

“MMpH..!” You thrashed, face pressed into his chest, your bodies practically glued together. A heat ravaged your cheeks when you registered this, his toned body outlined underneath his clothes, the scruff on his jaw brushing against your cheek. You finally managed to disconnect from him enough to speak. 

“Let go!” You whispered harshly. Lafayette stirred, opening his eyes. The two of you stared at each other before an odd glint entered Lafayette’s chocolate eyes. 

“Laf-” You started.

“Stay.”

“What?”

“Stay,” He said shortly, more of a question than a demand. His eyes looked too clear, too soft for someone who was drunk.

You got lost in his gaze, your faces so close now that you could count every brown eyelash, the curls escaping his ponytail, framing his captivating features. 

Everything was shouting at you to say no, to get the hell out of there, but then his lip quirked upward and you were melting.

“Ok.”

His head buried in your neck, your legs intertwined as the soft sounds of his breathing filled the quiet air.

And the dull beat of his heart lulled you to join him in the land of the subconscious not long after.

* * *

“ _OH MON DIEU!”_

You frowned at the noise, wondering who had the heart of stone to do this to you so early in the morning. Opening your eyes, you watched Lafayette in blurry perplexity until the memories of the night before came back to you and just sighed, rolling back over.

“Go back to sleep, Lafayette.”

“Back to-?!” He was utterly befuddled, wincing at the sound of his own voice, nursing a hangover. Another round of french escaped his lips before he caught himself.  “ _Mon cher, what are you doing in my bed??!!”_

“So you don’t remember last night?” You mulled, taking great satisfaction in making him freak out even more.

“Last night?!!” He sputtered, a complete mess of ruffled clothes, bed hair and tangled sheets. “What did I - did we - how did-”

You snuggled into the warm sheets, snickering. “Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything.”

A breath of relief left his lungs. “ _Oh merci bien.”_

You hummed casually. “I mean, you haven’t even taken me on that date to France yet.”

You swear you had no idea the male human voice could go that high before. “ _Date??”_

A thump alerted you to the fact that he had fallen out of the bed and onto the floor. 

You yawned, raising your hand limply above your head to point at the ceiling. Where to start? 

“I’ll tell the story of last night…”


End file.
